What's In A Name?
by the-spellbound-spirit
Summary: Book Fic - It's the end of the second year for Mildred and her friends and Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom are looking for a suitable class teacher for the new Form Three. Could Miss Granite be the right choice?


_**A/N: So this is something a little bit different, separate to the "A Time" story, based on The Worst Witch books rather than the show. It's been a lot of fun to write this story so I hope you enjoy it just as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Disclaimer: I am not Jill Murphy (I wish!) and I do not own any of the characters mentioned, though I do take full responsibility for their actions.**_

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Tropical sunshine beat down on Miss Cackle's Academy as the end of the school year drew to a close. The second years were having a flying lesson in the courtyard as Miss Hardbroom went through application forms for the new third year form mistress. She was rather weary of dealing with Mildred Hubble, the misfit of her current form group. The teacher that had covered her while she was concussed after the events of the half term holiday, Miss Gribble, had been completely useless when it came to class discipline and had vanished off the face of the Earth after one lesson with the current second year class.

Miss Hardbroom filtered through the piles of paper on her desk, sorting them into yes, no (this pile was the highest) and possibles so she could show them to Miss Cackle later on during the staff meeting. She had been put in charge of the applications as she was a stickler for standards, she was not afraid to admit it herself.

"Granite," She whispered to herself as she held one application form between her fingers, "Such a strong name. And look at all of your teaching history," she said in an impressed voice. She put Miss Granite's application form on the yes pile, well the pile dedicated to the "yes" applications, so far there actually hadn't been any candidates that had thoroughly impressed her.

The bell for the end of the day rang. Miss Hardbroom took the yes and possible piles in her arms and carried them to the staff room. Miss Cackle would want to look at them herself, though Miss Hardbroom would always have the final say if they didn't come to a mutual agreement.

She walked up the wooden staircase, towards the small staff room on the second year corridor. She saw Ethel Hallow (such a lovely girl) walking towards her. Ethel was such a good influence on the other girls, so helpful when it came to assisting in the classroom. She was always offering to stay back and help wash the benches in the potions classroom and she had such high grades, the highest in the year group. Miss Hardbroom knew good things would come to Ethel Hallow.

With a light tap on the staff room door, Miss Hardbroom pushed it open. It was empty. She placed the paperwork on the table and began to pour glasses of water for the staff and put out pieces of paper and pens for note taking.

She shuddered as an all too familiar voice screeched from the corridor outside of the staff room. Mildred Hubble, a voice she would recognise anywhere. To be honest, the girl was like an irritating tag on the back of a dress – an absolute nuisance. And she was always there at the right time to save the day, always saving the school, turning wicked witches into snails or saving some wizard from being a frog. She was the antithesis of Ethel Hallow; a failing student, scruffy, absent minded and worst of all she had that horrendous tabby cat. It looked so untidy when they were flying and somehow she managed to sneak the moth-eaten creature to Rowan Webb's castle at Grim Cove during the class trip when she had been expressly told that she had to leave him in the kitchens. Of course Miss Cackle had let her off with little more than a quiet word but if Miss Hardbroom had been in charge that girl would have been marched out of the door as soon as she had caused the accident at the Halloween display during her first year.

Miss Hardbroom dismissed the thought of Mildred Hubble from her mind as the door creaked open. It was Miss Cackle, followed by Miss Bat and Miss Drill. She winced at Miss Drill's outfit; a bright pink blazer on top of a pale blue blouse with a Dalmatian print skirt and purple cowboy boots. The staff took their seats around the table.

"Good afternoon Miss Hardbroom. I hope you haven't been waiting too long for us." Miss Cackle said, pulling her chair closer to the table.

"Not at all, Miss Cackle," Said Miss Hardbroom as she too sat down. She looked at the paperwork in the middle of the table and then at the faces of the other staff, "Now as you are all aware we have been looking for a new form mistress for next year's form three. I feel that perhaps the year group would benefit from a new teacher rather than myself taking them into their third year."

Miss Cackle nodded, "Of course, Miss Hardbroom. Well we shall have a look at these, shall we?" She pulled her spectacles down onto her nose and scanned through the application forms. Miss Drill looked over her shoulder while Miss Bat fiddled with the sleeves of her knitted dress.

"Who did you like, Miss Hardbroom?" Miss Cackle asked, placing the application forms back on the table.

Miss Hardbroom took the forms, "One name in particular drew my eye - Miss Granite," she passed Miss Granite's application form back to Miss Cackle.

Miss Cackle nodded in approval as she looked over her credentials. She passed it to Miss Drill and then to Miss Bat who seemed rather impressed.

"Look at all of that work history. She even taught in a prison, she'll be able to handle our girls." Miss Drill said excitedly, "Brilliant choice, Miss Hardbroom."

"Is she the one for the job?" Miss Hardbroom asked as she took back the application form from Miss Drill who was re-pinning a strand of her wavy grey hair back into her jaunty ponytail. All her colleagues, including the headmistress, nodded.

"I will write to her, Miss Hardbroom. Don't you worry, you've done quite enough already."

"I wonder what she looks like." Miss Bat said dreamily as she rested her chin on the palm of her hand.

Miss Hardbroom smiled, "With a name like that she will be prim and proper, well groomed and not at all frivolous," she took a sideways glance at Miss Drill's outfit, "with professional dress sense."

X

The girls had left the school for their summer break and all too soon it was time for the new school year to start. It was the day before the girls arrived and all of the teachers were waiting for the knock on the door from Miss Granite. Miss Bat was sat in the staff room window, waiting for someone to fly over the fence on their broomstick.

Miss Cackle had a fan in her hand as Miss Hardbroom marched into the room carrying a file.

"What's that, Miss Hardbroom?" Miss Cackle said breathlessly as sweat dripped from her forehead.

Miss Hardbroom ground her teeth, "Mildred Hubble's file. I don't know what on Earth we are going to do with that girl, Miss Cackle. She is a liability to the school. We are going to have to warn Miss Granite if she still wants the job after hearing about her."

"Now, now Miss Hardbroom. Mildred is a very sweet girl, so good natured and-"

"Nature has nothing to do with it," She said waspishly as she placed the file down in front of the headmistress, "Look at all of this; broom flying accidents, turning students into pigs, mixing the wrong potions and that's only her first month at the school! Goodness knows what other calamities are contained within this very file."

Before Miss Hardbroom could go any further there was a knock at the heavy wooden front door of the school.

"That's her!" Miss Bat said, removing the conductor's baton from behind her ear and waving it as though she was conducting an invisible orchestra.

Miss Hardbroom sighed wearily as Miss Cackle left to get the door. She came back some minutes later with a bright orange bush in a pink overcoat. Miss Hardbroom blinked.

"Ladies, this is Miss Granite," Miss Cackle explained, pointing at Miss Granite.

Miss Granite looked completely the opposite to what Miss Hardbroom had expected. Her bright orange hair was wild and curly and she wore a pair of tinted spectacles that covered most of her round face. The collar of her overcoat was turned up so all that you could really see of her face was her nose.

Miss Hardbroom stood up, seeing that she towered over the new teacher, "I'm Miss Hardbroom, deputy headmistress," she said, holding out a hand for Miss Granite to shake.

The tiny new teacher took it and then she spoke and a voice that sounded like that of a hysterical mouse left her hidden lips, "Hello, Miss Hardbroom. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Miss Hardbroom had to disguise a look of surprise as she heard Miss Granite's voice for the first time. That couldn't be a real voice could it? She had never heard anything like it before. When their eyes met, Miss Hardbroom felt her stomach twist sickeningly. There was something familiar about those eyes, something she didn't like as they twinkled behind those tinted spectacles.

"Well why don't you take a seat?" Suggested Miss Cackle, gesturing for Miss Granite to sit at the table. Miss Granite took the seat opposite Miss Hardbroom and pushed her collar up further so that even more of her face was hidden, "I hope the directions to get here were alright."

"Of course, Miss Cackle," squeaked Miss Granite, "It's such an honour to work in such an esteemed school. I'm very much looking forward to teaching your girls."

Miss Hardbroom cleared her throat, "Well perhaps you should take heed, Miss Granite. We have one student in particular who is quite troubled, Mildred Hubble. She will be in your year group. This is her file," She passed Miss Granite Mildred's file and the bizarre teacher looked through it.

Miss Granite closed the file and passed it back to Miss Hardbroom, "I have come into contact with a Mildred Hubble before. There's no need to worry Miss Hardbroom, I will be able to handle your girls and any problems with staff effectively."

With a sideways glance at Miss Cackle, Miss Hardbroom nodded, "Very well then. " And with that she took the folder and swept out of the staff room, followed by Miss Cackle.

"What do you think of her?" Miss Cackle asked, chewing her lip nervously.

Miss Hardbroom's eyebrows knitted together with concern, "She dresses so frivolously, Miss Cackle. She'll be a terrible influence on the girls. And that voice!"

"Well she can't help that. But I shall have a word about the clothing-"

"And the hair." Added Miss Hardbroom as she remembered the large cloud of orange candy floss that she had been forced to look at only moments before.

"And the hair. Very well, I shall have a word."

"Her application form was so promising but honestly I don't think she's appropriate for the job," Miss Hardbroom took a deep breath and continued, "Personally I have an unpleasant feeling about her. I don't know what it is."

Miss Cackle smiled, "Don't worry Miss Hardbroom. I'm sure it's just the change in staff that's making you uncomfortable," and with that she took Mildred's file and walked towards her office leaving Miss Hardbroom standing in the middle of the corridor alone.

What Miss Cackle didn't know was that Miss Hardbroom was completely right to be wary of Miss Granite. Little did they both know that Agatha Cackle was sitting in that very staff room. Mildred Hubble, the very girl that Miss Hardbroom had warned Miss Granite about, had discovered that the new teacher was in fact Miss Cackle's evil twin sister in disguise. She and her coven had been turned into snails again and sent to the Witch's Guild for punishment, leaving Miss Hardbroom once again as the third year form mistress.

"Well I did tell you, Miss Cackle." Miss Hardbroom said smugly as she poured herself a cup of hot chocolate and sat opposite the headmistress in her private study.

Miss Cackle picked up a custard cream from the biscuit tray and dunked it in her hot chocolate, "I know, I know. Perhaps the next time we recruit a member of staff we should host an interview just in case this happens again."

Miss Hardbroom smiled brightly at Miss Cackle, taking a folded sheet of paper from within the pocket of her dress, "Well we have actually had a late application form from someone called Miss Mould who would be perfect for the second year class. She is an art teacher."

"Really? Art at Cackle's?" Miss Cackle pondered the thought for a moment as she ate her biscuit, "Well it couldn't hurt I suppose."


End file.
